lines altered

I have to give credit where credit is due as it is obviously inspired by @shamefulbirb ‘s Corroded Crank. idk why I did this, me bored. I was super anxious making this since I didn’t know if I wanted to post this because I was afraid people where going to say that I ‘stole’ or copied the same idea because they were both robots. I joined the tumblr community about two months ago and I didn’t even now about Corroded Crank  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

Obviously an alter ego of @crankgameplays featuring my terrible handwriting :’v. Don’t kill me pls I cant draw creepy things….I’m terrified to post this

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anonymous asked:

kylux soulmate au?

When Ben was very small, his mother told him that he would know his soulmate for certain one day.

“I will?” he asked. They’d been traveling by shuttle somewhere, one of the zillions of places he’d been to in the first seven or eight years of his life, places he could barely remember now. He’d expressed the distaste every child does when he spotted his parents kissing, which led them to this topic. “How do I know that?”

She took his right hand and turned it so the palm was facing up. “See the lines on your hands? The person who you’re meant to be with will have the exact same lines with the exact same pattern.”


His mother tugged his father by the sleeve to bring him closer and, grinning, he turned over his hand too. His mother’s hand was smaller than his father’s, but the lines were just the same, Ben checked it himself. 

When he was sent away to learn how to be a Jedi, he studied his hands, frightened. Whoever had the lines to match his, he thought, feeling real anxiety, would never get to be with him. The eJdi weren’t supposed to have relationships or be in love with anybody. His other half would be all alone.

But his grandfather had broken that rule, he thought. His grandfather had broken a lot of rules. But if he hadn’t, Ben reasoned, his mother would never have been born, and his father would have never met his match, and he wouldn’t have been born. So maybe it was okay that he’d broken that rule…?

As he grew older, Ben learned how okay he was with breaking rules. How justified he felt. Rules did not apply to him. He would never be a Jedi, anyway, didn’t want to. One day, in a fit of anger, he sliced his left palm straight through, altering the lines. Severing them. Life, love, fortune, all cut up, his former destiny destroyed.

As he grew older, as he took on his newer, better form, his new name, he would trace the lines, the scar of his palm and tell himself to be patient.

What he did not anticipate was how gloved his new compatriots would be. The more time he spent with his co-commander, the more he wondered if the lines on Hux’s hands matched his. It was a dilemma–if he knew what Hux’s lines looked like, he could be at peace, but it could also be the greatest disappointment of his life. He did not dare hope.

Until he was invited to a First Order banquet where he was seated near Hux, who, like Ren, did not eat with his gloves on. There was a faint white scar across the palm of his hand that was holding his fork. His left.

“That’s an unusual place for a scar, General,” Ren remarked.

Hux looked down, clearly having not thought about it in a long time. “Oh, yes. I cut my hand during an outdoor survival exercise when I was thirteen.”

Ren tried to remain steady, purposeful, as he slowly, deliberately, raised his own fork to his mouth. “It is unusual,” he said, “To see palms that match in such a way.” And he turned his hands just enough to show his own scar.

The look on Hux’s face was everything he could hope for, and in that moment, everything that existed. 

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." version Morgan
"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know." version Morgan

Owain: Lucina, we have to do something.

Lucina: Well, what do you propose we do?

Owain: I…I dunno….

Lucina: I see you’re awake now.

Owain: Hoy there!

Lucina: There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Here, give me your hand.

…Welcome back, Morgan.

Everyone: Morgan! Welcome back!

(a note about the translation)

Fate/Grand Order EMIYA (Alter) Line Masterpost

EDIT: Updated with his event and birthday lines! His damage lines were just noises so I didn’t put them.

Looks like Emiyas ruining me is a trend that will continue into 2017.

*If anyone is interested in commissioning me, here’s my regular commission page, and here’s my chart for Chapter America/E Pluribus Unum!

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TGD Articles #1

The reason I love The Get Down is not just because its about a part of my own people’s history in this genre of music…but because it’s a metaphorical speak in the image of many artist that’s lived that life coming from a colored, poor, and seemingly broken land. The cultures that represented in this show – they’ve always been at the pinnacle of all the big art forms. Often times that history was erased replaced with the face of someone else, the credit is given to those it didn’t belong to and even when correct credit is given the tale is spun to make it negative – our form of dance was something violent, dangerous or not a real form / our music was/is degrading at best and tasteless at worst / our art was never art just unnecessary incoherent scribbles used only to mark ownership and ruin what was once perfect. Time and time we’re shown that the lighter the flesh the easier the content is to swallow but TGD isn’t about that harsh reality. In fact, these young men and women are to focus on their own moment trying to breathe some life into their own dreams that there’s no room for that story. So what happens is we get this ultimate focus on this representation, on this reality that I think isn’t shined on enough for people like these. You have real artist who’ve lived through similar events as these, whose history match. These too are our stories, and TGD remembers that, they remind of that, they teach that to those who hadn’t known.

I’ve been doing this thing lately where I’ve been feeling this need to describe everything by one word and one word only. The only rule was that the word had to not only speak for the entirety of the piece but that it must also trickle down to having more than the one meaning. Sometimes this is difficult…this time it was simple.


The word has found its place within the story. Its grown so much its become an entity of its own, it’s presence refusing to be ignored, it has weaved its way through characters and threaded itself to the spine of the storyline. Its more than the star gazing and the bird metaphors, it’s the hard lyric dropped on the backbeat and the spray from the can that paints every one of Dizzee’s mottos. Each character’s struggle is one marked by a quest of the word.

Originally posted by klmhyoyeon

Mylene seeks absolution from her Father and his church. Like many of the characters, she desires to use her talent to transcend her from the gutters of rags to riches and class. To be raw, Mylene sole drive is for control, of both her own form and mind and through that her own message in her art. She is the one most driven by this need for the boys have total autonomy over what they perform and how it’s performed, and while the girls may do back lib for her and therefore have not much say they are still free in form of body and decisions. We watch her transition from her father’s control, trying to fit her dream inside his reality, to trying to fit that same dream inside someone else’s who wanted her for her sex appeal.  In both cases, she was told what to think, feel and how to act. Her only purpose was to achieve theirs. It’s only when the first chains are truly broken (with her father’s death) do we see her take a stand and start of this different path. We know this path is one of fruition because, in the scene where she finds herself at the party (this scene also mirrors with another character’s awakening), she’s lost in herself, singing her way – carefree and just for the art. It is this moment that gets her the deal of a lifetime. Through Mylene we see many other characters in search for some form of freedom – including her mother whose wants to escape the marriage she’s bound herself to, her ‘uncle’ who’s made a life of trying to free others from poverty, and a broken city – and Jackie a drug addicted musician who finds himself lost in the biggest musical block until she frees him with creativity and inspiration.

Originally posted by zelvars

Unlike Mylene, Zeke doesn’t know he’s in need of being free. To be fair his prison is, in part, one of his own making.   Yes, his family and teacher put pressure on his to succeed their way…but he doubled that by trying to add Shaolin and the Kipling brothers to his track. There’s nothing wrong with trying to succeed but you can’t walk to paths at once and that’s what Zeke finds himself trying to do and often finds himself taking steps backward instead of forward. He stretched himself thin instead of giving his all to one route. Maybe that’s why his story is heavy with guilt and sorrow because his goal was to make too many people happy – someone was destined to be let down – and if part 2 was any marker, that person is shown to be Shao, the brother who he’s never really put his full trust in. Through Zeke we are shown sometimes we have too many options and refusing to make a choice can cause us just as much as making no choice, but also that our decision that can come with a duality. Zeke was free to choose…although I don’t know if his choice was all it was cut out to be. Zeke was inspiring though and with that came those who wanted that to shade them, such as Ra-Ra who latched onto this group because he saw the potential and hoped that his brain would be enough to lead them down the right path to creating a kingdom of their own.

Originally posted by samann98

Shaolin had the story of no choice. Shao lived in a mindset of survival and in that mindset all your decisions are fronted with that goal. His body was even more out of his control than Mylene’s, Fat Annie made sure of that from a young age. Even though he’s a jack of all trades (art, music, dance), even though deep down he’s always hoped and has finessed his talents in wait of an opportunity, Shao never believed he would actually find a path to escape the world Annie had built for him. Leaving always meant ending back there. This is why he was enamored of Zeke – he was an opportunity, he was a promise of things Shao never had (a family, a partner, a bond) he was the road to freedom. He not only made him see, but he made him believe (this is also why I don’t like Zeke – Shao was always all the way in, damaging himself further, but Zeke always held a part of himself out knowing he had more than one route). When he gripped onto this idea, he couldn’t let it go, even if it meant getting his hands dirty. He was willing to steal, beg, borrow, and in one case assault for this thing. Because if he could do all those things to survive in a world he didn’t want to be in, what was stopping him from doing them when the destination was something he actually wanted? The sad thing about Shao’s story is it presented the reality of placing your trust in someone and having them drop your ass. Hope – it was so close and he knew it was gonna work. Growth-excusing the world he lived in and the things he had to do, to standing up and saying no. Devastation-having the foundation pulled from under his feet with the realization that having something and losing it may just be worse than never having had it at all. Reversion- of all the things he’d once known, the life he once lived, the thoughts he once had. Freedom is an illusion when life keeps proving that you deserve no such thing. And that ties in with Boo, he thinks he has no real tools to leave that place. The city has its claws in him, feeding off his anger and hardheadedness that keeps him in the belief that those like him and Shao were meant to be left behind and hardened for that life. Those who think they don’t deserve to be free succumb to their prisons.

Originally posted by paranoidalec

Let me be frank – Dizzee’s story is my favorite in every way possible…including this one. If Shao’s storyline thus far has been about the manifestation of freedom letting you down, then Diz’s is about that manifestation being the best thing that allows you to soar high. Free/freedom is a theme we see surrounding Dizz a lot. This is in part to his sexuality and in part to his rebellious artistry. He himself has atoned himself more freedom in one than in the other. Dizz is fearless and driven in the face of art. His train quotes usually as such ‘Forget safety, be notorious’. He goes all the way into a dangerous neighborhood just to see Shao’s new work. He added his own work to one of Shao’s trains and even went to a gang territory for another one of his own creations. His art presents not only his thoughts and beliefs but allows him to freely hide in plain sight though his write line and alter ego Rumi. He’s the only character whose freedom is always at the stake of being stolen (though his art being a crime) while also seeking a different form of freedom (both his sexuality and the legacy of his art). Dizzee’s story is like a caterpillar going through metamorphosis – when the audience first meets him we don’t realize his sexuality is on the table. It isn’t until we’re introduced to Thor that even becomes clear. Thor is interested upon first meeting when he hears exactly who Dizzee is and his explanation of Rumi. Thor immediately understands the representation of Rumi. He’s the first character to see the genius in Diz instead of weird because he’s the first to actually see him fully for what he is and understand his metaphors. Thor is actually the element that’s pushing Diz’s transition. We get a lot of signs of Freedom when Thor is around – when they exchange books Thor tells him to make it the craziest, nastiest, freest, most revolutionary piece he’s ever made – Thor has a train quote that goes ‘You have wings, Learn to fly’ – before Thor ask him to go to the club he ask Dizz ‘Doesn’t Rumi wanna rise from some Alien ashes, be a phoenix, find a new form? Set the alien in the top hat free bro, introduce him to the world’. This is forthcoming to Thor’s own form (the phoenix – one reborn) already settled and free in his own sexuality, the bird standing for both freedom and rebirth (which is a point diz is at during his last scene). I do think that Thor feels because he’s able to see Diz/Rumi so translucently that others will/can too. You see this when he invites him to the club and tells him not to worry they’ll let him in. – In the club scene, it’s as though Dizz is actually leaving one world entering a new world, all the while with Thor leading Dizz forward with a guiding hand. This sense is deepened by the fact that the audio is cut and what we hear as they are in this new place is Thor’s joy (laughter) at sharing this new world with Dizz. He tells Dizz that “this is where free people come to be free, just birds singing in bird voices and doing bird things (basically free people doing free people shit)’”. When Dizz gives Thor the Set Me Free album and tells him that it made him think of him it makes sense because that’s the route Dizz has been on since meeting Thor. It is easy to see that Thor is his first male romantic action given his hesitant nature when Thor was first flirting with him on the train – he remained stoic until he did the turn with a La revolution before exiting. But Dizz is also a full steam ahead kind of guy once he decides to do something. We get another one of those scenes in the club. Because everything was so new Dizz is contained and awestruck but after the kiss and the first note of Come Set Me Free, all those walls fall and we see Dizzee in his most pure form.

Originally posted by hamillboyega

This theme, of course, follows into part 2 as Thor is literally locked up and Dizz has shut down in his own way. This season also focuses on Dizz standing up for his place and himself. He’s no longer letting comments slide by, choosing instead to confront them head on. When Thor gets out we get this intricate scene that while drug induced, allows us free entree into Dizz’s mind where Thor is concerned. Love, art, protection and of course free as we’re reminded of Rumi’s destination. Some fans take the Boo-Dizz conversation to mean that Boo secretly knows about Dizz’s sexuality…I didn’t take it that way at all. When Boo says – remember when I used to know all your friends it was a reminder that Dizz like the rest of the characters was still locked in a box. There’s a reason Ra says..yo that’s my brother in the face of Thor whose trying to help. None of Dizz’s family knows Thor. It’s the same reason he tells Boo no when he ask if he could come along to see Thor. So even while he’s at the point of not apologizing for being an alien he’s not yet a phoenix. When we see Dizz again, he’s at his happiest. He and Thor are shacked up in what I refer to as Paint Palace, isolating themselves from the outside world like they’re on a honeymoon and drawing their truth on every surface they can. As I’ve said in my other post, this is one of my favorite scenes – because everyone should be allowed to experience that kind of freedom. Dizzee is in a safe space, doing something he loves, surrounded by positivity and with someone who inspires this safe feeling. He doesn’t have to hide, doesn’t have to speak in half-truths nor outright lie. Thor doesn’t judge him, and although he’s his guide he doesn’t push or force him to move faster than his own pace will allow. The reason Thor is presented smiling and happy when Dizzee is lost in his art is because he is both enamored and in full support of Dizz during these moments because they’re when Dizz is at his most real. Thizzee does not overtly mention their feelings because the real message loses its meaning that way. You see all the other relationships/friendships in the show and they all tell each other their every feeling but when it comes time to put up…someone is often left hurt, disappointed and jaded.  Dizz is aware of all those feelings – love, protection, freedom – not because Thor says them, but because he shows through action. Thor is Dizzee’s manifestation of freedom and through he found himself on the path to accepting himself and freeing the sides of himself that others didn’t understand. Dizz is learning to fight for himself as much as he’s willing to fight for his art. Thor teaches him that Viva la revolution has space in other portions of his life. And that’s where we leave Dizz, transforming himself into something new…

Sometimes freedom is the fight for control, sometimes it’s the need to make a decision, sometimes it’s a manifestation, and other times it’s learning to accept yourself. The show made sure to sprinkle it in every character (even those I didn’t mention). As I said at the start, it was the floor the genre of music and art was built upon. Neither got much respect but still, artist used it as their route to escape whatever struggles they needed to overcome and the greatly exhibits that. These characters want to be kings and queens, they want to make their own mark on the world, leave behind their own legacy. They fight, love, and sometimes lose. They learn to learn to understand one aspect of one another they probably thought they would never see. That’s what’s so freeing about TGD, what makes it so damn good.

Video belongs to Anna on YT! This post was in part inspired by said video. The gifs are as credited.

Writers Creed Challenge of the Week (4/9-4/15)

Week 19 brings to you what we’d like to call “Collage Poetry.” For our challenge this week, we would like for you guys to take at least 1 line from 3 different poems that you have previously written (so a total of at least 3 lines) *they must come from 3 separate poems!* and mix them into a totally new poem without altering the lines. *for prose pieces, use 3 sentences as substitute for lines*  If you can, please link the original three poems.

The inspiration for this week’s challenge comes from this post/conversation between @tafkas77 & @riadovoidostoevsky

For our challenges, we accept and encourage all types of writing, you are not restricted in terms of style. We just ask you to please stay on topic and please read our post on topics we do not want glorified and condoned, as they will not be reblogged by us.

Tag your post #writerscreedchallenge and we will reblog your work throughout the week. Thanks, and we look forward to reading all your work. If you are concerned that your work was overlooked (Tumblr can be glitchy with tags), please contact @denmysterywoman. She’s running the prompt this week.

*note: for writing that is not related to the challenge please use the tag #writerscreed*

As always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to message any one of the administrators or send us an ask in our inbox.

Okay, who sold their soul for this season?

It’s like Dabb has been going through the entire show with the intention of picking up all the remotely loose ends or things the fans were curious about - why did Azazel had yellow eyes and no one else did? What are the other four things the Colt can’t kill? (Because we’ll learn that, this episode says it…) And also where is the Colt now at all? Why is Michael always represented holding a weapon against Lucifer if his “Sword” is his vessel? (He has an actual lance! Also, Michael at this point has been heavily mentioned too many times to stay out of the narrative forever, right?) Gadreel’s line “alter the sigil, alter the spell” was taken by many as foreshadowing of something bigger regarding spellwork and now Crowley breaking the Lance pretty much picked that up, and the season seems to be about magic, so I believe it’ll come up again. Hell, this episode even addressed my feelings that something didn’t work in how quickly Crowley went from being a very earth-based demon to king of hell after the events in 5x22 - the idea wasn’t his, bless, everything makes full sense now for me…


Dear anon who messaged me a few days ago.

I’m sorry to reply here in the public space. But I don’t know other way to tell you my appreciation, hope you see this. I’m really thanksful for your kindness and politeness. You’re not presumptuous at all! Based on your suggestions, I altered some lines of comics, feel sure that it’s better than before. I’m going to keep working on Gradence things for a while, so will be glad if you advise on my English when you feel like. Thank you so much again.

ts-art-and-etc  asked:

Are the marks under your eyes natural, or eyeliner?

“They come and go without my influence, so I suppose I would have to state them as being natural. They are dependent on the intensity and mood of the host. It sounds strange, for something like a dark line under my eyes to have significance, but this is what I have realized over my years of examining this dark patch’s existence.”

Dark’s hand rose, and his fingers brushed along the smooth, weak skin laying beneath his eyes, wrinkling the expanse there but of course, not altering the line of black beneath.

“When my energy is of absolutely no use and I am in a relaxed, meditative state, meaning Mark is in no use of me and isn’t feeling dark emotions, then liner is thin and almost unnoticeable. On the other end of the spectrum, when I must express a large amount of energy through rage, grief, loneliness, whatever it is that is needed, they become thick and easily visible. They were extremely visible on my appearance on Valentine’s Day because of the surge of energy and my ‘use’ despite it being against regulation. So yes, it’s natural. I do not apply it myself.”


Since a lot of people don’t seem to know about this, I thought I’d introduce you to this masterpiece here.

Marvel’s Captain America: The First Avenger: The Screenplay

Released in 2014 this book contains the final shooting draft for the 1st Captain America movie. If you loved TFA, you absolutely need to get this because not only does it have the complete script so you can re-visit favourite scenes again, it also has alternative lines and omitted/altered scenes.

There are quite some goodies in there, some of which I wish they hadn’t changed for the movie. One of those would be the scene with Steve and Bucky on the train. In the original version you see, that scene went down a bit differently. Here, Steve actually manages to grab Bucky’s hand and starts pulling him back into the wagon. Since he had rushed for Bucky first though, the Hydra soldier was still on his feet, waiting to charge the gun and when it finally had, shot the beam at Bucky and vaporised his arm and he fell into the ravine. 

So yeah folks, get this thing, it’s absolutely worth it! :)

(Where to get it? Amazon should definitely still have it.)

If they don’t hit $200,000 during this livestream, I’m gonna be upset.

Even if they don’t make it, it’s still a great cause!! …and maybe Mark may dye the stache anyways. 

Either way, please go help out!! :D 

What’s In A Name

I wrote this for ababybat for Christmas. The prompt was “It was all an act” Dick/Dami.

Warning for angst. Bring the tissues.

“Don’t you get it? It was all an act!” Jason’s voice barked loudly across the rooftops as he waved his bottle haphazardly toward the rise of the skyscrapers barely visible through the Gotham city smog.

“That’s not true,” Damian’s voice was a slight hiss as he stood just outside of Jason’s reach, watching the man roll his head back on his shoulders to look him in the eye. His once blue eyes sparkled with the pit green and seemed to twist like a spiral-a web-

“Oh really?” A cut of his lips as he took another drag from the glass bottle, “What does he call you?”

Damian’s brow furrowed against his mask as he frowned down at the man before him. “What idiocy are you spouting now, Hood?”

Jason hissed at him, eyes narrowing as he lunged without warning.

Damian twisted, but Jason caught the end of his cape and yanked him around, crushing him to the slate of the rooftop as he pinned him beneath his body.

“Get off me, you-”

“What. Does. He. Call. You?” Jason’s alcoholed breath punctuated each word as he pressed down on Damian, large hands grasping the boy’s wrists as his thighs restrained his thrashing feet.

Damian growled low in his throat, baring his teeth at the drunken man atop him. “What does it matter, you imbecile? I should have let you fall off the damned roof!”

“Aw-c’mon, demon brat” Jason’s breath ghosted over Damian’s face heavy with alcohol and it made Damian’s nose twitch, “Tell me.”

“Robin. He calls me Robin.”

Jason threw back his head and roared with laughter, “That doesn’t mean shit. We’ve all been Robin. That ain’t special. What does he call you? The truth now.”

Damian’s mind whirled and his brow furrowed in confusion, “My name.”

Jason’s masked faces twisted painfully as his mouth continued to stretch upward almost as if he was being broken in two, “Damian? He calls you Damian?”

“No names-”

“He must really not love you at all.”

Damian sucked in an audible breath, fingers twitching as his mind went blank, “what?”

Jason either didn’t hear him or chose not to, “He always gives people names, y’know? Kori’andr is Kory. Barbra is Babs. Tim is Timmy, Timmers, little brother, baby bird, Timothy if he’s angry. The big bad bat is B. Agent 1 is Alfie. Cassandra is Cass. Stephanie is Steph. I’m Jay, Jaybrid, Little Wing…” His voice trailed off as if in thought before refocusing on the frozen boy beneath him. His eyes were wide and dark as if completely consumed, “He names the people he loves and he must not love you if he just calls you Damian.”

Damian couldn’t breathe. Everything in him was frozen, unable to move. Everything just seemed to click and he couldn’t lift a finger even if Todd pulled a knife and slid it across his throat.

Jason pushed off him, leaving him sprawled on the roof as if he sensed the broken pieces inside him scattering as he weaved back toward his upturned bottle near the edge of the building voice trailing behind him.

“Didn’t you ever think of all the broken promises?” His voice took on a higher mocking tone, “I’m just a phone call away. Call me if you need anything. I’ll come visit-”

“I won’t be your Batman anymore, but we’ll still be family. I’ll always be there when you need me.” A blindingly white smile from the shadow of the cowl.

Damian’s heartbeat thundered in his ears as his eyes stared fixedly into the sky.


“We’re a family.” He could hear the sneer as the liquid sloshed against the glass of the bottle as it was tipped against lips.


“But he hasn’t, has he? Not one damned call. Not one visit.” Jason waved a hand against the sky now stamped with the bat signal. “All those platitudes about family, but really they were just empty words so you would behave. So you would toe the line. They were nothing. He is nothing!” He was screaming now, “Lies. They were all lies!”  

The bottle arched gracefully through the air and shattered against the brick of the wall. The slide of the clear liquid was mesmerizing. It was all he could look at.

It made sense-everything Todd had said. Made. Sense.

Clarity hit him like a fist.

All those aborted phone calls-the moment he’d actually dared to let it ring to completion. Voice mail. Not that he’d ever lower himself to actually leave a message…but every time? It had gotten to the point that he’d call just to hear the other man’s voice over the line, even altered slightly by the electronic device it was soothing and he’d gotten past the fear that he’d ever have to actually talk to the man. He never picked up his damned phone.

Then again-maybe he just didn’t pick it up for him.

Or the rare instances he’d actually seen him, his suit flashing red and black in the night where it had once been blue and a dark lingering cape.

It was never to stop by and say, ‘hi’ or even in casual civilian clothes. It was always as a vigilante. It was always business.

Never as family unless there was someone else was around to see. Never lingering. Never just for him or maybe not even for him at all.

Todd was right. It was lies. All of it was lies.

A pretty leash for a child. One of alluring smiles, warm hugs and words strung with lies and deceit. All of it unnecessary now that his Father had returned. He was free. And Damian…he was left in a shattered world of his illusions.

He had given up his entire world to follow a man that didn’t want to be in his.

He hadn’t realized he was standing until he felt a hand grip his shoulder in a silent squeeze and his eyes snapped into focus.

Nightwing was standing beside him, his left hand gripping his right shoulder, his head tilted in a silent question before he focused on Todd, letting his hand drop as he took a step forward.

“Okay, what’s all the ruckus now, Little Wing?”

Damian felt a drop in the pit of his stomach. He’d come, but not for him.

Todd was watching them, a hint of pit madness on his face, a twist of cruelty to his smile as he watched Nightwing advance.  

Not one glance. No hint in his body posture that he was aware of anything other than Todd before him.

Todd, for his part, was now grinning against the wall as he swayed slightly even while he was standing as Dick made his way over toward him. He didn’t even put up a fight as Grayson threw Todd’s arm over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around the larger man’s waist to keep him steady.

He swallowed, set his shoulders and stepped forward, “Nightwing-”

Dick’s voice cut him off as he grabbed his grappling gun, “Robin, you should go. I can take care of this. B is waiting for you.”

“Yes, Robin. You should go. Like a good little bird.” Jason’s voice snickered as he released more of his weight onto Dick, making him grunt.

Their eyes met and held and he forced himself to breathe. To calm the slight tremor to his fingers.

It was an act. Everything. A lie. Something he could no longer afford.

He smoothly removed his own grappling gun, swung in the opposite direction and pulled the trigger.

Even now he couldn’t watch. Couldn’t see that familiar figure in a different costume.

The man he remembered coming into stark contrast with the man he actually was. The man who didn’t-

He let the force of the line yank him from his feet and swing him up into the sky telling himself that the sharp wind was the reason for his shortness of breath and sprinkling of tears beneath his mask.

Even now he could hear Jason laughing.

Dick watched as Damian’s form disappeared and wondered at the boy’s silence. His body posture had been off, his focus wandering. He’d been completely open when he’d landed on the roof. He hadn’t even noticed him until he’d grabbed his shoulder-it wasn’t like him.

Something was definitely wrong to throw Damian so far off his game that he didn’t notice someone approaching his back. He’d have to have a talk with him later. It was dangerous-

Jason leaned in to him, laughing, his whole body shaking with it. He reeked of booze, but Dick couldn’t find it in his heart to be angry. He always got somewhat unstable on the anniversary of his death. Letting the pit madness take him farther away from Jason for that short time. Wallowing in a despair he didn’t usually allow himself. That’s why he’d come to find him, but Damian had found him first.

He quickly hooked Jason to his belt so he wouldn’t drop while they were mid swing and aimed his hook toward a safe house where Jason could stay until he slept off whatever he’d already done tonight.

“What were you talking with Damian about?”

Jason snorted, nose digging into the side of his neck, “Batman. I was telling him the truth about our Batman.”

Dick ignored the slight worry that suddenly threaded into his gut and made his chest clench as he swung them into the night.